Sweet Dreams
by Madame Vodka
Summary: How Sam feels when Dean arises from the Dead. A sappy one-shot “H-h-how?” he managed to mutter. Dean smiled cockily, “It was a simple case of Heaven didn't want me and Hell was afraid I would take over, so boom"


Sweet Dreams.

Sam was torn between covering his tracks to avoid detection from irate credit card companies and the feds, and leaving a trail for Dean to follow. He knew that one day if Dean didn't drag himself out the pit, Sam would head down there and drag him out himself. There was no way he was going to let Dean go, he never should of let Dad go so easily, should of figured out what he had been planning instead of hiding behind resentment and fear.. not going to make the same mistake twice.

America is a big place though, its not like he is staying in one state that long. How on earth could Dean track him? Head to Bobby's first? Head for Kansas? Sam refused to change his mobile now, hoping that Dean had memorised his number, Sam had insisted that Dean be buried with his cell phone, and often left him voice mails but what if he just materialised somewhere without the phone? Ha Buried not cremated in case he suddenly decided to stop playing dead and rise once more. Heck he refused to allow them to nail the coffin shut so he get out with ease. Dean was coming back.

But what if he came back as a ghost? How could he find Sam then? Ghosts can't use phones, he vowed to revisit where Dean died every couple of months just in case.. could he kill ghost Dean? Could he bring himself to salt and burn? Sam couldn't stop. Couldn't stop hunting, couldn't stop destroying, couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop feeling. His head was one big irrational mess that only calmed when he was hunting.

The loneliness was killing him.

The motel people thought he was a freak for always asking for a two separate beds room, when clearly he had no-one with him. Waking up in the middle of the night sometimes, he would swear he could hear his brother's breathing in the other bed, it was only with that comforting imagined sound, he could fall into a deep sleep. His eating habits changed too, as whenever he tried to go into a restaurant, all he could think about was that there should be another sitting across from him, ordering a burger. Twice now he's accidentally ordered one for him. So now it was strictly take over or cheap supermarket ready meals and sandwiches. And whiskey, to stop the thoughts just for a while.

It was on one of these whiskey nights that Dean came home.

Sam had heard the door open, but was too drunk to care. Whatever could just end him, he didn't care. Go on you sissy, kill me already! He silently dared the intruder, go on.

"What the hell Sammy, I leave you for a month and this is how you act?" Dean? That was Dean's voice. No impossible! Sam struggled to sit up, and stared at the man in front of him, through hazy drunk eyes. He wrapped his arms around Dean, burying his head in Dean's shoulders. Heck it smelt like Dean, not of the fire of hell or the nothingness of a ghost, but Dean

"Whow Sammy, I take it, you missed me."

"You're back! You're back! You're back! You're back!" he chanted, head still buried, at this point Dean didn't know if Sam was so drunk, that he couldn't sit up without support or just really really missed him. Either way it was kinda comforting, even though it was a cliché of a chick flick.

"Yah Dude, I am back. Sheesh." he muttered, you couldn't get this moment to be any mushier even if a herd of elephants trampled on it.

"H-h-how?" he managed to mutter.

Dean smiled cockily, "It was a simple case of Heaven didn't want me and Hell was afraid I would take over, so boom, they decided to send me back here, to stop you from being such a girl."

"for good."

"for good, Sammy."

Sam was just speechless. After being an whirlwind of anger and regret for so long, suddenly there was exhilaration and happiness like a normal five year old at Christmas happiness. Little questions like why? Didn't matter cause Dean was back, they were brothers again. He tried to get up but ended up tripping and falling back in Dean.

"Whow Dude, I think you should go back to sleep, sleep off some of that whiskey. You are too much of a girl to take on this sort of stuff." Dean.. Dean.. Dean.. "It's ok, I will be here when you wake up. I promise."

His mobile choose that moment to start ringing. Sam tried to ignore it, wanting to stay with his brother. "I think you should answer that Sammy." Dean said gently. "Sammy, Sammy"

His brother whispering "Be strong Sammy" was the last thing he heard before the damn phone pulled him back into consciousness. Waking into the empty motel room, surrounded by the remains of a take away and two empty whiskey bottles, he ignored the constant phone rings, as his brief moments of happiness faded, as he realised that once again he was alone, that Dean was still dead and there was no one in the bed opposite. Where the only thing that was real was the tears slowly cascading down his face.

But you promised you would be here when I woke Dean.

You promised.

* * *

Author notes.

No I don't know what Dean smells like. I imagine its something sexy.

I am not sure if this based on mystery spot or pre-season four. I just wanted to create a fic using the line "Heaven didnt want me and Hell was afraid I would take over" cliché but I had too. I loved Mystery Spot too, when I first watched it with my flatmate, she got a little freaked out by me as I kept chanting "Dean! No they can't kill Dean! Dean! Dean!" I think by the time I had chanted his name bout thirty times she was preparing to have me locked up.. just thought I would share that with you :) I do the same thing now, when reading fics where Dean gets hurts or Reid (criminal minds) or Quatre (Gundam Wing) if you stop seeing one-shots from me, you know why.

Its 2 a.m, review if you think I should sleep. or to tell me what you thought of the story, I don't think I quite got the characters right this time but dunno you tell me.


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